The Revenge
by justjoy
Summary: Five years have passed since the victory. Aizen is gone, and Ichigo is the victor. Peace reigns, once again, in both worlds... or does it? After all, revenge is a dish best served cold. -Warning: Multiple character deaths.-


DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but an evil urge to mercilessly torture these characters.

WARNING: Major character deaths ahead. I repeat, really MAJOR character massacre lying ahead. This is rated T for a reason. You have been warned.

Author's Note: Three words. Don't. Kill. Me. Thank you for reading, and have a nice day ahead.

* * *

Was his memory dimming, being blown away like leaves in the wind?

Just five years, and he couldn't remember Aizen's last words. What had they been?

* * *

Rukia looked over at the window. Her fellow _shinigami_ had been perched there, brooding, all through their celebration – if it could be considered one, that is.

It had been five years since Aizen had been defeated by none other than Kurosaki Ichigo, substitute _shinigami_. Five years, to the day, since the time she'd almost lost everything she loved. Five long years.

Each year since, they – the two of them and Orihime – had gathered in remembrance of that fateful day. Unexpectedly, Yasutora and Uryū had turned up this year too. The atmosphere was generally relaxed, constantly filled with Orihime's chatter. Except for the hint of sadness she felt from him.

Rukia couldn't help but understand what he felt. That was the first time – and the last, undoubtedly – Ichigo had killed another being, someone who wasn't a Hollow. Yes, Aizen Sōsuke was nothing but pure, unmitigated evil, but that didn't change the fact that Ichigo had killed him.

She stood up, deciding to either comfort him, or kick him out of his deep blue funk. _Maybe both, _she thought._ It wasn't his fault that Aizen was the biggest traitor that ever walked the halls of the Gotei 13._

Rukia took two steps towards the window.

Then both _shinigami_ collapsed.

* * *

_Five years._

Hitsugaya Tōshirō, _taichō _of the Tenth Division, thought, as his legs carried him towards the place he knew so well. For once, his _fukutaichō_ was silent, following him without comment. She knew well how important doing this was to him, especially today.

They arrived in front of the memorial, dedicated to those who had died at Aizen's hands, directly or indirectly. The last name on the list had only been added yesterday.

The young _taichō_'s fingers brushed lightly against the two words, gleaming gold engraved in black stone.

_Hinamori Momo._

His hands clenched.

_I'm so sorry. _

Tōshirō never cried, but he wouldn't mind starting now.

She had died, because, and only because, of that traitor, Aizen.

_I failed you, Hinamori._

When her death was ruled as suicide, Tōshirō had fought hard for her name to be on this memorial.

Because ultimately, Aizen had killed her. He just hadn't done it himself.

_He _will _pay, I promise. On my honour as a captain of the Gotei 13._

Even if it killed him to do it.

"_Taichō_?"

A worried voice. Matsumoto.

He looked up. Little icicles were forming on the stone where his fingers had touched it.

"Sorry, Matsumoto," he replied automatically, watching as the icicles melted. "I'm fine now."

Hitsugaya Tōshirō, once again calm and collected, took one last look at the name. Then he turned away.

"Let's get back to work."

* * *

"Rukia-chan! Kurosaki-kun!"

Orihime's worried voice broke the surprised silence that had hung in the room. She rushed forward, laying her fingers on their wrists.

A look of horror crossed her face. "It's gone. Their pulses are both gone! And I can't feel their _reiatsu _anywhere!"

She shook both of them to no avail. Taking a deep breath, the frantic girl began to call on Shun'ou and Ayame. Uryū stopped her.

Orihime looked at him quizzically. "Ishida-kun! Why –"

"They may have been called back to Soul Society for an emergency," he quickly explained. Then he frowned. "Although it doesn't make sense to do it this way..."

Orihime bit her lip, thinking.

The Quincy continued. "We'll give them five minutes. If nothing happens, then you can call on Shun'ou and Ayame."

She nodded reluctantly.

And so the three friends' wait began.

* * *

Rukia and Ichigo had landed side by side, in the middle of a large, empty dome.

Instinctively, they drew their _zanpakutō_, ready for any attack. Rukia had never, in her years as a _shinigami_, heard of such a thing before – being forcibly drawn out of one's body, then transported somewhere else.

She gripped her _zanpakutō_ tightly, listening for any hints of an attack.

That was the only reason why she didn't drop it when Ichigo collapsed, clutching his head in pain.

* * *

A figure watched them.

The stage was set, and he felt satisfied.

Aizen Sōusuke turned around to face the only other occupant of the room.

"Your turn now, Gin." A smile, brief as it was feral, crossed his face. "The little _taichō_ and his dear _fukutaichō_. How sweet."

Ichimaru Gin grinned at his _taichō_ before starting his work.

* * *

"ICHIGO!"

Rukia knelt down beside the unconscious _shinigami_. Sheathing her_ zanpakutō_, she tried to pry his hands away from his face. They refused to budge.

_What was going on?_

The following five minutes were the longest in her life.

Until, suddenly, Ichigo's hand moved to grip his _zanpakutō_, the movement seeming forced and unnatural. As if he was resisting it with all his might.

To say that she was puzzled would have been an understatement. _The_ understatement of the century.

"Rukia?" he said, voice trembling slightly.

Said person suddenly had a very, very bad feeling. Ichigo's voice _never_ trembled.

"Yes?"

"DUCK!"

A few tufts of raven hair went flying as Zangetsu swung though the air where she had been moments ago.

* * *

In the offices of the Tenth Division, two people collapsed silently.

* * *

"Ishida-kun?"

"Patience, Inoue-san. Two more minu–"

He was interrupted by Orihime's terrified scream as a slash appeared on Rukia's arm.

* * *

Matsumoto was _not _happy.

Firstly, she had no idea where her _taichō_ was. Secondly, she had no idea where _she_ was, for that matter.

And last but not least, she had no desire to be where she was, wherever it was.

Mainly because of the person standing in front of her. Ichimaru Gin.

A _grinning_ Ichimaru Gin.

She growled at him.

"Where am I, and what have you done to _taichō_?"

"Now, now, dear Ran-chan, there's no need to be so violent, is there? We're frie–"

He was cut short, abruptly so.

"Growl, Haineko!"

* * *

The two captains faced each other.

"Aizen."

Tōshirō's voice was filled with venom, and the promise of pain.

The other man returned his glare calmly, unruffled by the emotion.

"You will pay. For what you did to Hinamori," he continued. As he spoke, he drew Hyōrinmaru from its sheath, holding it in both hands. The younger captain could feel the dragon roaring in assent, wanting revenge for its mate, who had died such an unjust death...

_Hitsugaya Tōshirō would _fulfil his last promise to the gentle, trusting girl, the only one whom he'd let get away with calling him "Shiro-chan", the one whom this _monster_ in front of him had single-handedly destroyed. Even if he died doing it.

His _zanpakutō_ gleamed dully in the light as he spoke.

"Any last words?"

This time, Aizen replied. "Of course. Three, to be exact. Do your worst."

Tōshirō was infuriated. No, he was past infuriated – there was no word apt enough to describe the anger that flowed in his veins right now. The mere thought of Hinamori, dead…

"Sit upon the frozen heavens, Hyōrinmaru!"

* * *

Rukia cursed as Zangetsu slashed through the air, heading towards her. Her sword rose, barely in time to block the blow.

Both of them were injured severely. While Ichigo had height and strength on his side, Rukia was faster and more experienced. And Ichigo was still fighting Aizen's control.

For she knew this could be the work of no other. His was the only _zanpakutō_ known for its hypnosis abilities. _For him to be able to control Ichigo like that… _Rukia shuddered. _This must be his bankai's power then._

The very thought chilled the exhausted _shinigami_ to the bone.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment. Then Ichigo retreated.

Not before choking out three words, which she caught, barely.

"Kill me, Rukia."

If she had been cold before, now, she was freezing, slowly but surely...

Rukia had never felt so helpless in her life before.

* * *

"Matsumoto!"

"_Taichō_?"

Both stared at each other in shock as realisation dawned. Tōshirō cursed Aizen's hypnosis abilities. _Damn him._

"We've been tricked. Again," he ground out through clenched teeth.

Matsumoto was about to reply when a sudden gust of swirling wind blew the words right out of her mouth.

When it settled, the ice and dust from their respective _zanpakutō_ had disappeared.

In its place were about a hundred copies of Hitsugaya Tōshirō.

All of whom immediately began to attack her.

* * *

Rukia watched, frozen to the spot, as Ichigo started to charge towards her. She could see the first signs of his transformation into his Hollow form - the white mask was beginning to form over his face, and his eyes were fluctuating wildly between yellow and brown. Fighting the transformation wasn't going to buy them much time, she knew, as both of them were weak from their battle.

And Rukia also knew that there was no chance of her beating Ichigo if he transformed fully.

_What are you waiting for? He is most vulnerable when transforming. Use your shikai. Kill him,_ the voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like the elder Kuchiki instructed her calmly.

_No! I cannot kill him! _she protested. _Not in a thousand years!_

A scathing reply. _But he asked you to. If you don't, then you will have failed him._

She couldn't _believe_ that this was actually happening. _But–_

_But nothing. Do it, now!_

Rukia looked up to see Ichigo, half-transformed, barely a feet away from her.

* * *

"MATSUMOTO!"

Tōshirō darted at the nearest copy of himself, destroying it with a stroke of his sword.

He barely noted the dull pain he felt, which he concluded must be the effect of destroying the ice from Hyōrinmaru. _Or maybe it's because I'm killing things that look like, well, myself, _he thought, with just a hint of sarcasm.

It didn't matter right now. What did, however, was Matsumoto, who was starting to tire from fending off his duplicates.

A _fukutaichō_ could never be powerful enough to beat her _taichō_. Much less multiple copies of said _taichō_. Matsumoto _was_ his _fukutaichō_ for a reason, after all.

She wasn't going to survive this fight, Tōshirō knew.

_And neither am I_, he realised as he watched the one he'd killed split into two, continuing their attack.

It was with this thought that he ran towards Matsumoto, slashing Hyōrinmaru in every single direction he could manage.

If he was going to die anyway, he'd be damned if he let Matsumoto die under his eyes.

He had already failed Hinamori many, many times.

Hitsugaya Tōshirō would die before he let the same thing happen to Matsumoto.

* * *

Rukia's voice was ice-cold, as cold as her heart.

"_Mae, Sode no Shirayuki._"

The white ribbon moved through the air gracefully.

For a moment, Rukia let herself imagine that this was just another practice with her old friend. Nobody was going to die.

She slashed her sword once in Ichigo's direction.

"_Some no mai, Tsukishiro_!"

* * *

Matsumoto looked up as the attack ceased momentarily, her opponents turning around at a disturbance behind them. She was confused, for a brief moment.

Until she saw her _taichō_ running towards her, fighting off the multiple copies of himself.

She could see that it physically hurt him to do it. _Ichimaru must have put some kind of sensory transference _kidō_ on it, the sick psycho. He _knew_ that this would happen, didn't he?_

Under other circumstances, she might have been honoured to have Hitsugaya Tōshirō, of all people, do such a thing for her. But now…

"_Taichō_! What are you–"

He looked at her for a fraction of a second, panic in his eyes.

"Matsumoto! Behind you!"

She swung around to fend off the blow when her attackers disappeared, quite abruptly.

That could only mean one thing.

Matsumoto turned around with a cold feeling in her heart.

Her _taic__hō_ lay some distance from her, bleeding from a knife wound to his side.

She ran towards him, faster than any flash step could have carried her.

He was a master at his sword, she knew. He had to be, to become a _t__aichō_ at such a young age. Matsumoto had seen him effortlessly defeat ten people at least twice his age before with barely a scratch on himself after the fight.

The only reason he could've gotten hurt was because... because...

_Because he turned around to warn me._

"No..._"_

It came out as a low moan of grief.

She cradled his head gently, cursing the one responsible for this.

A voice broke the silence right then.

_Speak of the devil._

"How touching," said Ichimaru Gin's voice.

* * *

Her eyes were definitely playing tricks on her.

Rukia stood and watched as it happened.

She wanted to scream, wanted to punch Aizen, wanted to move. Wanted to do something, _anything_.

But all she could do was grip the sword tightly as Ichigo approached at a run, almost fully transformed.

Rukia closed her eyes. She couldn't bear to see the gratitude in those brown eyes, even as they slowly turned yellow.

_There's nothing to thank me for, Ichigo, _she thought, as a single tear tracked down her cheek.

Then her world exploded in pain as she felt the teeth pierce her shoulder.

It was cold, so cold…

If she had possessed enough energy, Rukia would have found it funny, the fact that both times she'd gotten hurt on her shoulder, it was Ichigo's fault.

As it was, however, she could barely grip her _zanpakutō_ any more, much less do anything else…

Rukia went limp as the two were engulfed in a pillar of light.

* * *

Matsumoto glared at where she presumed Ichimaru to be, judging by his voice.

"Scary, ain't you, Ran-chan?"

_I'll show you what scary __actually_means_, _Matsumoto thought. Her murderous thoughts, however, were stopped by his next sentence.

"Two choices, Ran. Listen up, won't you?" His voice seemed to hold amusement. "One. You live, and the little _taichō_ dies."

He paused, letting it sink in, knowing that Matsumoto detested the very idea of it. Then he continued.

"Two. You both live."

A spark of hope appeared, unbidden.

"But without memories, without each other. Just like you did, when you first came to Soul Society."

She _knew_ that there would be a catch, that they wouldn't be allowed to just return to their lives. It was Ichimaru Gin that they were talking about here, after all.

_Well, at least my choice is obvious._

"Tw–"

"One." Tōshirō's clear voice interrupted.

"But _taichō_!" she protested.

He shook his head.

"No, Matsumoto. I would rather die like this than live, not having met you. You rescued me from the hell that was Rukongai. It's because of you that my grandmother is still alive." He paused, and she could see that his breathing was laboured.

But the expression on his face was earnest, and she could see that he really meant it.

"You made me all that I am now. Don't ever change, Matsumoto."

The young _taichō_ – _too young_, Matsumoto thought, _too young to die_ – opened his eyes, calm turquoise meeting worried brown. "As your _taichō _and friend, I command you to obey this last order, Matsumoto. Take it as my thanks for all these years you've been at my side."

He closed his eyes again, and smiled weakly. "Just don't be late for work tomorrow."

And with that, the small frame of Hitsugaya Tōshirō went limp in her arms.

She laid him down carefully. _Don't worry, taichō_, _you'll never see me late for work ever again._

Matsumoto stood to face Ichimaru, who had appeared, silently, behind her.

"Ichimaru," she hissed. "You _will_ pay for this."

The battle was brief. As she fell, Matsumoto wondered if her _taichō _would be mad at her stupidity, or proud.

But then again, she _was_ going to meet him soon, anyway.

* * *

"It's not working, Orihime," Uryū said quietly.

She had been trying to heal the two unconscious _shinigami_ for the last ten minutes. Ten very tense minutes, during which Yasutora and he had sat, silent, hoping for a miracle.

Now, he watched as she faltered, then stopped what she was doing entirely.

But he noticed something… off about her stance. It was as if she hadn't even heard him. As if she was listening to someone else, and what she heard terrified her.

By the set of her face, he knew that something had been decided.

But the last thing he could have expected was for her to send Tsubaki flying towards him.

* * *

Aizen stood up. The last part of his plan had been executed, beautifully.

Of course, there was one minor detail left, but that would take care of itself. He'd made sure of that a long time ago.

It _was_ a slight shame that the Kuchiki girl had inadvertently deprived him of the chance of studying Kurosaki's body, which had shattered, together with her own. But that was unimportant.

His last words to Kurosaki, exactly five years ago, had finally been fulfilled.

He remembered those words clear as day.

"I will be back, Kurosaki. I will destroy you. Then, I will destroy everyone you love. You won't be able to stop me."

Sōsuke Aizen _always_ kept his promises.

* * *

Uryū barely dodged the determined fairy. Then, suddenly, Tsubaki slowed to a stop.

"Stupid girl! Where is your intent to kill? You know what will happen if we don't do thi–"

Clamping a hand over Tsubaki's mouth, Uryū looked, worried, at Orihime. She was shaking her head, as if in denial of what Tsubaki had just said, and would have collapsed if Yasutora hadn't caught her right then.

Uryū couldn't stand it any more.

"_What, _Orihime? What will happen?"

She continued to stare into space, frightened.

Then she let out a scream of pure terror.

* * *

A knock on the door.

Gin entered the room, moving to stand beside Aizen.

"You finished your work, _taichō_?"

The latter was watching a scene in a room far away.

"Almost," he answered.

Aizen returned his attention to the screen as a scream punctuated the air.

_Well, I did offer her a chance to save five people, at the expense of one__._

_ Since she turned it down, though..._

His voice rang in the room like a church's bell.

"Activate."

* * *

Karakura Town was shaken to its foundations as the Kurosaki house exploded in a ball of flames.

* * *

Aizen smiled in satisfaction.

"I'm finished here." _After five years._ "Want to have some tea, Gin?"

Revenge was, after all, a dish best served cold.

* * *

**END**

* * *

2nd Author's Note: Yes, I know that my mind is twisted. Hope you enjoyed it, and please do leave a review. Thanks!

3rd Author's Note: Also, if there are any errors, I would love it if you could inform me, either through a review or message. :)

4th (and last) Author's Note: (edited on 18 May) Thanks to all who have read/reviewed/faved/alerted this. It is because of you guys that I finally wrote the sequel/companion piece for this, and it is now up! I have put it under the title "The Revenge: Avenged", so it should be pretty easy to find. Please _do_ head over there to read it, okay? (Rest assured that only good things happen in that fic.) I will be sitting here in anticipation of reviews.


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